Hist Whist
by seilleanmor
Summary: hist whist, little ghostthings, tip-toe, twinkle-toe. little twitchy, witches and tingling, goblins, hob-a-nob hob-a-nob. Happy Halloween! COMPLETE


A little AU, because I wrote it before Espo found out, but I hope you can look past that. Happy Halloween!

* * *

hist whist  
little ghostthings  
tip-toe  
twinkle-toe

little twitchy  
witches and tingling  
goblins  
hob-a-nob hob-a-nob

_**- hist whist**_**, ee cummings**

* * *

"Christ, Kate. You scared me."

He's laughing, those creases at the corners of his eyes like a road map, detailing the path of his joy. But even as he grins at her, shakes his head, he's backing away.

He hits the edge of his desk, stumbles a little, his hands falling to steady himself against the surface. She smirks, stalks towards him, growls low in her throat. She loves the lick of the moon across his cheekbones, how it makes him this intense and brooding figure, so beautiful.

He swallows hard, pre-emptively wincing. "I didn't know I even still had that costume. How did you make it fit?"

She growls again, gets close enough to him that he can see the contacts she bought specially, the iris milky, rimmed with red that feathers into it, almost touching her pupil in some places. She groans all in her chest, reaches out to press two fingers to his neck, feel his pulse jump.

"Braaaains," she growls, stretching the vowel, cutting the word off in a guttural grunt that has him jumping, eyes wide.

He chokes out a laugh, his voice thin. "Uh, Kate. You can stop now. You're freaking me out."

"Mmm, braaains." She stretches up on tiptoe, her abdomen brushing his as she breathes against his ear.

His hands bracket the inverted parentheses of her waist. So hot, so good. She drops the act, hums a honey-soaked sigh into the crease of his neck. There's a beat of silence punctuated by the question mark of his lower lip brushing her cheek.

The leaves of night settle around them, blanketing. "You're hot," he breathes sotto voce against the side of her face.

"Even like this?" The prosthetic makeup clings to her cheeks, makes it hard to smile. She peels it off, gets the wig off too, her hair greased back. "Slimy?"

He chuckles at that, tugs her in, hands fisted in the material over her hips. "Yes. Zombie-Kate is so damn sexy."

"How is this sexy?" She raises an eyebrow, gives him a tight-lipped smile.

He shrugs, pulls her tighter against him. "You did this for me. Went to all this trouble just to make me happy."

"You love Halloween." She grins at him, her eyes shining.

"I love _you_." He pales, his hands suddenly gone from her waist and damn it, Castle. Come back.

She wraps her fingers around his wrists, tugs him to circle her waist. "You don't need to look so terrified. That's not a secret."

"Told you three times now huh?" His smile wavers, his eyes on the floor.

She cups his cheek, her thumb gentling under his eye. "Hey. Castle. Look at me."

"Sorry. I get it." He kisses her, so tender. "You don't have to say it. I can taste it on you."

She darts in again, kisses him until he opens for her, slides her tongue along his. "Oh God. Oh Castle. Don't ever doubt, okay."

"Not doubting."

"How much I love you. God, I love you."

He beams, kisses her again and again and again, his hands all over. "Oh Kate. Kate-"

* * *

He trips on the stumbling block of her name, can't get past how he loves her, how he wants her.

She steps back, laughs as he chases her jaw with his mouth, his teeth hard against her mandible. "I gotta put the prosthetics back on for the party, Castle. Is everything set up?"

He huffs, presses hard with his knuckles just below her navel in retaliation. "Did you not see when you came in?"

"No. I was in character." She pokes her tongue out at him and he bites her for that, her collarbone so she can pull her zombie shirt up and cover it later. Because yeah, he's marking her.

He slides a hand up underneath her shirt, thumb stroking over her spine. "Mm, Zombie Kate."

She pulls away, steps back, stretches her arms out and spins, her grin as wide as the arc of her hands. "You like it?"

Suddenly vertiginous, she tips forward against him and her open mouth traces a hot line over the thrumming pulse of his neck, across the mountain range of his jaw and up, up, ever up, cresting at his temple.

"Yes. Hot."

"Better than Kitty Katie. That's what Mom made me dress up as every year." She smiles, memories in her eyes that he'd give anything to share with her, but the darkness that hits every time she mentions her mom, liquid and flooding, it's too much.

He sucks in a breath, tries to keep his head above water. "I bet you were adorable. Did you have a tail and everything?"

"Yeah." She shakes her head, smirking. "I was thirteen the first time I managed to strike a compromise."

"Yeah?" He makes his eyebrows dance because he knows she thinks it's ridiculous. And endearing.

She rolls her eyes, her hands sliding up his chest. "Uh huh. Mom made me a cat costume every year before that. Never asked what I wanted to be."

"What'd you do when you were thirteen?"

"Cat woman." She grins at him, darts in to press her mouth to his and then she's pulling away, disappearing into his bedroom.

He has to take a second to just breathe past the crush of emotion in his chest. How much he loves this enigmatic woman who'll dress up as a zombie for him and then unmake him with tales of her childhood.

* * *

He follows her into the bathroom.

She makes him sit on the edge of the bath, lets him watch her put the prosthetics back on, the wig. She can't believe he actually kept this getup past using it to scare his daughter.

"Why'd you keep this costume anyway?" She catches his eye in the mirror, grins at him.

He shrugs, comes to stand behind her, his hands hot on her hips. "Why not?"

"Doesn't it remind you of those few weeks when you thought I didn't feel the same?" She'd been struck by it when she'd found the costume in a box in his closet. Even though it's so good, even though they're amazing, it still guts her to think of how she came so close to losing him.

He kisses her neck where there's no makeup, where her pulse jumps. "No. It reminds me of the wonderful day when I knew you did."

"Sentimental, aren't you?" but she's smiling again, turning to face him and slipping her hands into his back pockets, squeezing.

He leans in, growls when she jerks away. "Damn makeup. Are you sure I can't just kiss you anyway?"

"Stop it. I already had to reapply once." She swats at his chest, nudges him back.

He pouts, goes to sit back down. "Hey now. It was you that took the prosthetic off."

"Well I couldn't smile properly." She shrugs, grimaces at him in the mirror even as she's fixing her shirt to hide the rapidly appearing welt on her collarbone.

"Oh. Huh." There's a moment where he watches her, lacing his fingers together and resting his clasped hands on his knee. "Why do our most important conversations happen in that costume?"

She turns to him, finds she can't smile or raise an eyebrow. Damn makeup. "God knows what'll happen the next time one of us wears it."

He hums his agreement and she can see his brain whirring, the seed of some idea gestating behind his eyes.

"Castle. Castle?"

He jerks, shakes his head, meets her eyes. "Sorry. What?"

"Don't you need to change too?" She doesn't know what costume he's bought. He'd refused to tell her even when he'd been naked and gasping under her. Even when she'd promised that if he told her she'd get a matching one, thinking the saccharine levels of romance would make him spill it, but nothing.

He stands, presses a kiss to the top of her head that she doesn't even feel through the wig but it's sweet anyway. "Yes. And you're meeting Lanie in the lobby so you don't arouse suspicion, right?"

"Uhuh." She takes his hand and squeezes, brushes her thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. "Don't kiss me hello. Don't drink so much that you forget we're a secret. Don't look at me like-"

"Like suspicion's not the only thing you're arousing?" he leers, his hand sliding around to palm her ass.

She glares at him, whacks at his chest. "See, that's exactly what I'm talking about."

"I was thinking, though. Maybe we should let them find out tonight?" She opens her mouth to argue and he hurries on. "I mean, Ryan already knows and I'm pretty sure Lanie does too. And won't it be awesome to actually get to see Javi's face when he realises that he's the last one to work it out?"

"But Castle-"

"I know." He wraps an arm low around her waist, tugs her tight against him. "I know you're scared that Gates will find out, but they know the rules. I don't think for a moment they'd do anything that could get you fired."

She hums, has to battle back the urge to rest her head against his chest because he's wearing the button down that's just a little too tight across his shoulders, the navy one that turns his eyes into these intense pools of desire that make her lose her train of thought, and she doesn't want to ruin it with makeup.

"Okay. How about this? We don't go out of our way, make an announcement, but we don't actively try to hide it either. Let them detect. Is that okay?" She blinks up at him, slips her hand inside the collar of his shirt to settle at his neck.

He brings a hand up, bracelets her wrist with his fingers, not capturing her but rather, adoring. "Alright. I guess that'll be fun. And I can't kiss you anyway so we can see how long it takes them without that to clue them in."

She laughs, shakes her head at him, a lank strand of greasy wig-hair falling over her face. "I better go. Don't want Lanie to see me getting off the elevator." She brushes her thumb over his mouth, runs a hand over his scalp.

He kisses her hair – not her hair – again, breathes out a sigh at her crown. "Yeah. Okay. See you later, Sexy Zombie-Kate."

* * *

He changes quickly, starts pouring out the first line of shots. He knows for a fact that Kate and the boys have a day off tomorrow and he wants them to enjoy his party properly.

It seems like no time at all before his doorbell's ringing and it's Kate and Lanie, of course. His girlfriend chokes out a startled laugh at his costume and he grins, makes his eyebrows dance at her.

He's inordinately glad that he kept it from her because it's so worth the look on her face now, her delight limned with a pride that unmakes him. He knows she's worked it out straight away, his beautifully smart-

Huh. His Kate? Yeah. His Kate.

"Castle, what _are_ you?" Lanie smirks at him, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, ushers the two of them inside. "You have to guess. And I see that you're embracing the spirit of the female superhero, Doctor Parish."

"Yeah, well, if the shoe fits. Wonder Woman was always my favourite. And sorry Castle but I have no clue what you're meant to be." She shrugs, shaking her head at him.

He brushes his hands down his dress shirt, his pants, pouts at Lanie. He's wearing exactly what he'd wear on any normal day. He'd been torn, but the sheer brilliance of his idea had won out against the appeal of fancy outfits and makeup and wigs.

Kate has that covered anyway.

"You're a psychopath right? Because they look the same as everyone else?" Kate grins at him, her eyes shining with approval.

"Kaaate," he whines, folding his arms across his chest. "It's not supposed to be that easy."

Lanie snorts, pushing past him to get into the loft. "Maybe you should get a little more creative, Writer Boy."

"Writer Man, Lanie. Writer Man." Kate's hand flies up to her mouth as if she can push the words back in but it's too late and no one's even had a drink yet but she totally just blew their cover and this is utterly delightful.

He grins, takes her hand. "Why Detective Beckett, who knew that you'd give the game away so easily?"

"Sorry." She flushes, he can tell even under the makeup, and then she lifts her head defiantly, her eyes bright. "Actually no. I'm not. I'm so happy, Castle, and I'm happy we can share it with our friends."

* * *

"Dude."

"What?"

"Have you seen those two?" Esposito nods his head toward the kitchen where Castle is mixing drinks, Beckett balanced on a bar stool watching him.

That's normal, that happened last year. But now they're _touching_, Castle's hand glancing over Beckett's bicep again and again like he can't believe she's here.

Ryan sighs, knocks back the last of his drink. "Yeah, I see it. Just trying to decide whether a refill is worth coming face to face with that."

"Have you _tasted_ this? I don't know what Castle put in here bro but it's _definitely_ worth facing that." Esposito drains his glass and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. "Wait."

He turns to Ryan, his face suddenly pale. "You don't think-" he trails off, shakes his head.

"Dude, what?" Ryan battles back his smirk, so very amused by his partner's cluelessness.

Espo's gaze flicks over to the couple by the counter and back, eyes wide. "You don't think _Castle_ is Beckett's mystery boyfriend, do you?"

"Maybe you should go ask."

* * *

Kate can't tear her gaze away from Castle, so of course she only notices Esposito's presence when her boyfriend's eyes grow comically wide and he takes a step back. She swivels on her stool, already grinning.

"Hey Espo. What's up?"

Javi scowls, narrowing his eyes at her. "Don't '_what's up_' me, Beckett. I have a question."

She's still smiling. The prosthetic on her cheeks is coming dangerously close to falling off and she doesn't even care because she's deliciously buzzed and Castle behind the bar making cocktails is so very sexy and she's so _happy_. "Shoot."

"Is Castle your boyfriend?"

There's a strangled choking sound from behind her that she totally ignores because seriously Castle, get a grip, and-

"What if he is?"

Esposito quite obviously has no idea what to do with that, his gaze flitting between Kate and Castle over and over. He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'congratulations' and then he's gone, already deep in conversation with Ryan.

She turns back to Castle, an easy smile bubbling up again. "That wasn't so bad."

He makes another strangled sound, bites out a peal of hysterical laughter. "They're going to lynch me."

"Nah babe, they won't. They're just sore that it took them so long." She shrugs, takes a sip of her drink.

He chokes again, his knuckles white where he's gripping the counter so hard. "Katherine Beckett, did you just call me babe?"

"It's this cocktail. Are you trying to get me drunk?" She swirls the liquid around in her glass, watches him watch the slide of bone under her skin as her wrist moves.

He rounds the counter, takes her glass off her and tugs her to her feet. "No. I want you plenty sober for what I have planned."

* * *

He kicks everyone out at midnight. Makes sure everyone's in a taxi safely because _seriously_, who knew Ryan had it in him?

Lanie gives the two of them a pointed look and he grins, wraps his arm around Kate's waist and tugs her into his side. He's not sure if he's allowed to do that and he doesn't care because she feels so good, so warm against him.

And then the door's closed and he's spinning her, backing up her up against the counter, his mouth against hers. The haze of alcohol is enough that he doesn't care that her prosthetic is half stuck to his face now and when he tries to pull back for air she follows because they're attached and ooh, what if they get struck by lightning or something and it becomes permanent and oh, _hands, Beckett_-

Jeez, drunk Beckett is fun.


End file.
